Northern Sinfonia/Zehetmair

Among the final set of six symphonies that Haydn premiered in London in 1794-95, the so-called Military No 100 is the most rousingly incongruous, due to the exotic battery of "Turkish" percussion effects in this early musical version of shock-and-awe. In truth, it has little ­connection with the army or the Turks, though it is possibly the first piece in the symphonic repertoire to ­accord such a prominent role to the ­triangle.

Thomas Zehetmair presented it as a symphony in a hurry. There is no ­conventional slow movement, and the stately air of the Allegretto was swiftly broken by the crashing percussion, like a band of rowdy ­soldiers breaking up a respectable ­soiree. Schubert's "Great" Symphony No 9 is separated from the Haydn by only 30 years; yet the shift in the ­musical landscape feels seismic as ­Schubert's discursive, melodic style seems to make the symphony expand in waves rather than advance in sequence. Robert Schumann praised the work for its "heavenly length", which in certain accounts can simply feel hellishly long, particularly if you include all the repeats, as Zehetmair opted to do here. This expansive account clocked in at almost exactly an hour, yet never appeared to drag.

Particularly impressive was Zehetmair's precise construction of the slow movement, which builds up into a ­towering edifice of sound that suddenly collapses, leaving a mournful cello. At the conclusion, Zehetmair did not so much shake leader Kyra Humphreys' hand as collapse into her arms, as if they had just completed a marathon together – which in a certain sense, they had.